


Master of Death

by Caspian28



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caspian28/pseuds/Caspian28
Summary: After being oppressed by the Shadowhunters because they joined forces with Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, the Seelie Court is out for revenge. The best way to do that? Raise Jonathan himself. Already armed with the Resurrection Stone, the Seelie Queen turns her eyes to Hogwarts to find the last two Hallows and become the Master of Death.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Lily Luna Potter/Other(s), Lysander Scamander/Rose Weasley, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

Prologue

The Seelie Queen strode quietly through the darkness of the Forbidden Forest, dressed in a simple robe. For any other task, she would have sent some lesser fey to gather what she needed, but not this one. This could be entrusted to no one else.

She drifted among the trees, ignoring the eerie whispers of the forest. They spoke of old battles and adventures, but she didn’t need to listen to them; she didn’t care about the wizarding world. It was a trifle – nay, a future trophy. But it was not concerning now.

There was one battle that she cared about. It was the same one that she still felt the sting of oppression from, even now. The Clave had proved true to their word, and had not eased a single constrained placed on the Fey Folk since the day they fought with Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. She had foolishly chosen the wrong side, so blinded by power she was. But she would not do so this time. No, this time, she had a goal, a tactic no one would see coming.

A glow in her peripheral vision caught her eye. A unicorn, of course. It had been a long time since she had tasted the succulent blood of a young unicorn. Fate seemed to be simling upon her, tonight.

The unicorn didn’t shy away as she neared. She was a female, of course. The unicorn trusted her. Once near enough, she raised a dagger and threw it quickly and with precision. It embedded itself in the heart of the unicorn, which fell. Even in death, it was graceful.

They say that drinking unicorn blood extended the life of the drinker, but damned their souls. However, she was neither wizard nor human; she was immortal, and she was already damned. Knowing this, she lowered her head to drink the silver blood of the unicorn.

She licked her lips as she drained the unicorn dry of all its blood. Nothing tasted quite like unicorn blood, not even fey food. Perhaps it was the taste of innocence that it surely carried with it. She hadn’t tasted the blood of a unicorn in eons; it was never wise to kill too many at once. It would arouse suspicions best left buried.

Sighing, she stood up and continued on. That was enjoyable, but not the purpose of the night. The night was much more important than that. This night would be one of the most important nights in history; human, Shadowhunter, wizard, or Downworlder.

She stopped, suddenly, sensing it beneath her. Her plotting and tracking had not failed her. It was here, beneath her very feet. She bent down, and delicately dug through many years worth of dead leaves, lichen, and humus, into old layers of the forest floor.

And there she found it. A simple stone, overgrown with moss, its strange inscription barely visible under layers of grime. She delicately, almost reverently picked it up. Ever so gently, she turned it thrice in her hand.

To her left, she heard a strange movment. It would not be detectable to human ears, but of course, she wasn’t human.

“Jonathan, my love,” she breathed without turning.

“It is I,” he said in return. That was when she knew that it truly had worked. She turned to see the ethereal form of Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, standing in the night. She took him in, from his white hair to his black eyes, and sighed contentedly.

“We have a war to fight, and a war to win,” she said softly to him. She came as close as she dared, but not touching him; never touching. He looked real and spoke as if he were real, but he was simply a shadow of the true Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern.

Of course, she had feared it wouldn’t work. She knew, they all knew, that the heavenly fire had burned out the demon in him, and he had become a regular human before dying. But this Jonathan, this was the one she knew. This was the demon. This was exactly who she needed.

“This time, it is ours,” he said to her. “The world is ours, and it will burn.”


	2. Chapter 1

Albus Severus Potter sat in his usual seat in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, banging his head against the window. There was no one else in the compartment to stop him from killing his brain cells.

It was his last year at Hogwarts, his bloody _last year_ , and he was spending the first part of the train ride alone, due to the fact that his two best friends were Head Boy and Girl, and were currently in the Prefects compartment arranging patrols and holding a prefects’ meeting.

Just. Bloody. Brilliant.

For lack of something better to do, he changed into his school robes. He sat back down, surpised to feel slightly more comfortable and at home with the Slytheirn crest gleaming on his chest. Not to mention the Quidditch Captain badge.

He managed to yank a book free from his trunk, which turned out to be _Quiddich Through the Ages_. He sighed in contentedness. There were worse things you could do while you waited for your best mates to come back from their Prefects meeting. You know – like bang your head against a window.

He lost track of time, absorbed in his favourite book, until suddenly the compartment door banged open, and in walked his best mates.

 _Walked_ was a loose term for what they were doing, though. Scorpius strutted. He always had, and although it annoyed Albus to no end, probably always would. He dropped heavily in the seat next to Ablus and put his head in his hands. Ablus didn’t need to ask why, though – at that moment, Rose stumbled in, snogging the bloody face off of Lysander Scamander. Lovely.

“Oi, you two. Get a room,” he growled in annoyance as they collapsed onto the seat opposite from him. “You’re bloody disgusting, and I do _not_ want to have to put up with this all the time.”

They broke away from each other, thank Merlin.

“Albus, this _is_ a room. It’s not our fault you’re in it.”

“Rose _bloody_ Weasley, you are insufferable,” groaned Albus.

“Honestly, you’d think it would bother them that they have two blokes sitting here watching them kiss,” Albus said, nudging Scorp’s knee with his own. Scorpius peeked his head above his hands so he could roll his eyes.

“Rose Jean Weasley, don’t make me forcefully separate you both.” Albus heard Rose grumble, presumably at the use of her full name, before hearing a mumbled, “Like you’d even try,” from Lysander.

Albus rolled his eyes. Sometimes, they made it too easy. He flicked his wand, glad of the time he had spent practicing non-verbal spells over the summer. His silent shield charm sent them flying apart.

“Was that _really_ necessary?” drawled Lysander in the general direction of Albus. His eyes were still glued to Rose. Bloody brilliant.

“You’re irritating,” Scorpius responded, “and it’s frighteningly disgusting to watch. Don’t you Ravenclaws have better things to do, anyways? Read all the school books before term has even begun? Master every spell before we’ve even learned it?”

“I’ve done all that,” grinned Lysander, although it was absent of malice. He gave Rose another kiss (of course) goodbye and departed, presumably to find his twin brother.

“ _Must_ you both be so vile to him?” Rose asked haughtily. Conversations like this were a trend, and it was because she and Lysander were so. Bloody. Disgusting. Generally, everyone took it in good nature but -

“We’ve been back on the Hogwarts express for three seconds, Rosie,” Albus complained. Rose grimaced at the use of her nickname. “And you couldn’t even spare us for that long. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a useful conversation with the both of you.”

Scorpius gave him a dubious look, flipping his blond hair out of his eyes as he did so. “If this is going to be a lecture about those two going at it, you should save it. We both know they won’t listen.” His voice took on a mild drawl, but Albus noticed the grin he shot at Rose. Bloody best mates. Weren’t they supposed to defend you?

“We can save the conversation about Lysander sucking my cousins face off like a bloody dementor for another day.” Best mates, sometimes. Oi.

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” grumbled Rose. Albus didn’t care. He did not. Bloody. Care.

“I’ll have you know, my bed is against the wall, and therefore I can only wake up on one side of it, no matter what,” Rose looked like she was about to say something, so Albus continued, cutting her off. “This is actually important. It was something dad told me, said it was top secret.”

“Top secret? Top secret as in you shouldn’t be telling anyone, top secret?” asked Scorpius, looking at him in a slightly confused way.

“Yes. Now shut up so I can tell you,” Albus said, shooting him a glare.

“Al,” said Rose thoughtfully, before he could continue, “I think I’m going to get you a dictionary for your birthday. Maybe then you’ll understand what ‘top secret’ really means.”

Albus just looked at her. “He said I could share with you two, you numbskulls. It’s not as though he would tell me something without knowing my two best mates would hear about it, too. Now, are we all done with the interruptions?” They nodded silently. Scorpius’ eyes, especially, seemed to be urging him to go on.

“Well, dad and Teddy, actually told me and Lily all this. Basically, as Head Auror, Dad has had to assign Ted to an interesting assignment. You know about the Clave in the Ministry of Magic, right?”

Rose nodded, while Scorpius shook his head. Before Albus could explain, rose jumped in to Scorpius’ rescue. “I read about it somewhere,” she said. “Basically, the Clave is a branch of the Ministry of Magic. And they’re responsible for anything supernatural that happens in the world. So they’re made up of Shadowhunters and Downworlders, and they keep demon activity down low, while the rest of the ministry is focused on controlling magic. But they all work together to keep all of this from the Muggles. The Shadowhunters call them Mundanes, I think.”

“I knew most of that,” Scorpius said in response, “I just didn’t realize they were so closely tied with the Ministry of Magic.”

“Most people don’t,” Rose replied. “The Minister always likes to keep it really secretive. I think people thought it would be different with Kingsley in charge, but it’s still the same. We all just keep to ourselves, really.”

“Exactly,” continued Al. “Anyways, ten years or so after our war with Voldemort, they had a war of their own. Basically, the Seelie Court, which is made up of the fey people, teamed up with some evil guy named Jonathan or something who was in league with demons. They were going to destroy all the Shadowhunters and Downworlders and all of that. So the Shadowhunters and Downworlders teamed up and defeated them. But after the war, they put some super tough terms onto the Seelie so that it could never happen again. The thing is, it made the whole Seelie Court really mad, and now they think it _is_ going to happen again, only this time, they’re going to involve the wizarding world.”

“Why would they involve the wizards, though? And how?” mused Rose, after Al had finished explaining.

“Wands,” Al replied solemnly. “They have their own type of magic. But if they could channel it through wands, it would probably be disastrous.”

“Why did your dad tell you this, though?” asked Scorpius. “It’s not as though it involves us.”

“Well, the Ministry doesn’t think it’s a huge problem, so they’d only let Dad assign one Auror to the case. They don’t really think we’re going to be involved. So now, Teddy is working with the Shadowhunter war heroes, and so is Dad, sort of. But he told me this because they’re also putting people in Hogwarts – as professors, I think. They’re undercover, though, so I don’t think anyone else will know.”

“How do they put non-wizards in a wizarding school?” asked Scorpius. He looked nervous, and Albus couldn’t blame him. As the son of a Death Eater, people usually blamed him whenever something went wrong at Hogwarts.

“Warlocks, I think. I’m not really sure. I guess we’ll find out at the welcome feast tonight,” Al said.

“I guess we will,” replied Scorpius with a sigh.

***

The feast started the same as usual. McGonogall stood up and spoke a few brief words, and then the food appeared.

“D’you reckon those are them, then?” asked Scorpius, gesturing to the High Table where the teachers sat.

Albus looked up from the chicken he was rather enjoying where Scorp was pointing. “Probably,” he said. “They’re the only ones we don’t recognize.”

Sitting next to a bemused looking Professor Longbottom was a man wearing bright pink, sparkling robes. His hair was spiked up, and looked like it had glitter in it. He also looked like he was wearing makeup. He was talking and gesturing wildly with his hands as he did so. Although Al realized on closer inspection that his gestures, while broad and sweeping, did have some control of them. Sort of.

Beside him, a woman was sitting. She was watching him as he talked, and she looked faintly amused. Compared to the Professor beside her, she looked perfectly normal. It was a funny contrast, really.

“I wonder what they’ll be teaching,” Al muttered to Scorpius.

“Are they even qualified to teach anything?” Albus shrugged in response.

“What’re you two whispering about?” said a voice to Al’s left. “You shouldn’t keep secrets, you know.”

“Oh, put a sock in it, Nott,” Scorp responded. “We’re just wondering who the new teachers are and what subjects they’ll teach, is all.”

Callum Nott was in their year and dorm in Slytherin. He wasn’t bad, really, although he often liked to pry into other people’s business. Al didn’t like him, but he didn’t hate him, either. He wasn’t really allowed to hate him – the bloke was Scorpius’ cousin. He was like Scorpius, though. Neither of them held the pure-blood beliefs that their parents did; their immersion in the culture of Hogwarts had wiped that out of them. Nott’s dad, though, hadn’t been a Death Eater like Scorpius’ dad had been, and he didn’t hold quite as tightly to the pure-blooded ideals that Scorp’s family had. Ironically, he had been Albus’ first Slytherin friend, until Scorpius had changed enough. Now, Al could barely stand the guy.

The rest of the meal was passed mostly in silence, as all the boys ate as much as they could before the end of the feast. Finally, the pudding came out and then disappeared, and McGonagall stood up to give her beginning of year speech.

“Welcome, students, to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” she said, her voice ringing out around the hall. Albus tuned out the rest of her speech, looking across the hall at the Gryffindor table. Lily was talking away to Rose animatedly, while Rose appeared to be trying to shush her and listen to the speech.

“We have two new teachers this year,” continued McGonagall, winding down her speech. Al elbowed Scorpius, who was too busy staring off into space to pay attention to what McGonagall was saying. Bloody best mates.

“Would you please welcome Madame Carstairs, who will be in charge of the infirmary this year,” she said, as the woman stood up and gave a tentative wave before sitting back down. “And, we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,” McGonagall continued. “Would you please welcome Professor Bane.”

The man beside Professor Longbottom stood up and gave a sweeping bow. He lifted his hands and a bunch of purple light shot in an arc between them. It looked like wand sparks, but he didn’t have a wand. Definitely a warlock, and a bloody cool one at that.

Most of the school watched in horror, but Al knew he was openly grinning. It was bloody awesome. As if sensing his enthusiasm, the man – Professor Bane – caught Al’s eye and winked. When his eye opened, a cat’s eye stared back at Al.


	3. Chapter 3

Teddy Lupin stared into his mirror at himself. His brown hair was arranged neatly on his head, but he combed through it one last time, to make sure it was neat anyways.

"Edward Remus Lupin," he said to his reflection, "you are going to go in there, and be more professional than you have ever been before in your life."

"Talking to yourself, dear?" asked his wife Victoire. She walked in, carrying a squirming three year old in her arms.

He turned to her grinning, and his hair morphed into a bright blue colour. "Of course I'm talking to myself, Vic. Isn't it a sign of hidden genius?"

His son clapped and squealed at Teddy's bright blue hair while Victoire muttered just so Teddy could hear, "More like a sign of going senile in your twenties."

"I'll have you know, I am perfectly sane. Now Victoire," he turned back to the mirror with a flourish, "is my muggle clothing okay? And is blue hair professional enough, d'you think?"

"Blue hair is quite professional, yes. You look rather drab without it. You're an Auror, you don't work in an office. And your muggle clothing?" she raised an eyebrow at him. "You might not want to forget your pants."

Victoire turned around to walk into the kitchen, still holding her son. But before she left the room, he could hear her say, "Now, Will. Daddy is missing his pants because he's a Hufflepuff, and that's the sort of stuff they do. When you get to Hogwarts, you're going to be in Gryffindor, because we don't do silly things like that."

He heard is son reply solemnly back, "'kay, Mommy."

"OUTRAGE," Teddy yelled, sweeping into the kitchen. "BLASPHEMY TOWARDS THE NAME OF THE GOOD HELGA HUFFLEPUFF. PREJUDICE!"

"Go put pants on, dear," was Victoire's only response.

Teddy swooped in and picked his son up off the floor where Vic had put him, along with a toy car. "Come along, Prince William Arthur Lupin. You are going to help me pick out my pants."

"Ted, he needs to stay here and eat," said Victoire exasperated.

"Nonsense. You haven't even started cooking breakfast, yet. And I need to feed him my own prejudice to counter your anti-Hufflepuff-ness."

"That's not a word, Teddy dear," she said amusedly, as she was cracking eggs into a bowl.

"I don't care," he said. "Come along, Prince." He turned with dramatic flair, carrying his son out with him.

His son's name wasn't Prince, of course. To most of the family, he was called Will. But Teddy thought his name sounded rather Prince-like. William Arthur, Prince of the Weasley family. And the Lupin one. And the Potter one. Anyways, much to Victoire's chagrin, he began to call their child Prince. Or Prince William Arthur Lupin. Victoire secretly thought it was funny, though. He knew that. Well, he was pretty sure she did.

"Now, Prince," he said, setting his child down solemnly on his bed, "You should not listen to your mother. Well, you should," he quickly amended while pulling on a pair of muggle jeans, "but not right now. She is blathering nonsense. Hufflepuff is the house of kings."

"Daddy," said Prince, looking at him solemnly.

"Yes, Prince William Arthur Lupin?"

"Pink!" he shouted. Teddy sighed. This child had a one-track mind. Sighing, he screwed up his face and changed every single aspect of his features a bright, bubblegum pink. Prince William Aruthur Lupin squealed and clapped. Children.

Teddy walked out of the room with Prince on his hip, completely clothed, and bright pink. He walked into his kitchen to see James and Victoire sitting at the table and talking amiably.

"Oi, you're here early," he said to James. James just looked up at him.

"And you're pink," he finally responded. "Also, you have food. Mum's away reporting on a Harpies game, so I would have had to make breakfast myself. I'd probably burn down the kitchen."

"You could have just eaten cereal, you know," Teddy told him.

"Cereal," said James, "is not manly."

"And pancakes are?" asked Victoire, raising an eyebrow in her characteristic way.

"Pancakes are very manly," said James. "In a sweet, fluffly kind of way."

James was just finishing up his Auror training. Harry had pulled some strings so he was able to be Teddy's protégé, which they both found endlessly amusing. He was pretty sure Harry regretted it, though. They rarely, if ever, got their paperwork done.

James was here today to go with Teddy to the Shadowhunter institute in Lodon, to talk to the Shadowhunter war heroes about the fey situation.

Victoire put a platter of pancakes on the middle of the table, and they all sat down to eat. Teddy piled five pancakes onto his plate, but somehow James had gotten a hold of eight pancakes, and was currently slathering them with syrup.

"James Sirius Potter," said Victoire, "you had better be able to eat all of those."

"Victoire, have I ever given you reason to doubt me?" Victoire raised both eyebrows at him. James amended, "I mean, doubt my eating abilities."

"Well, I have a distinct memory of a seven year old James throwing up on a ten year old me because he had eaten five pieces of cake." Teddy laughed as Victoire shuddered.

"I remember that," he said. "You ate more slices than Freddy, though. Wasn't that the bet?"

"Yup. That was the day I became seven sickles richer. And I've hated vanilla cake ever since," said James, almost proudly.

Somehow, James had managed to finish eating during the conversation, and was now eyeing the last pancake on the platter, which Victoire was also eyeing hungrily.

"Don't you even think about it," Teddy said to James, who had begun to reach for the pancake. Teddy reached over and deposited the pancake on Victoire's plate. She smiled at him.

"You've eaten eight," he told James. "My wife has eaten two, and has another human life living inside of her. Isn't that right, Nymphadora Andromeda Lupin?" he asked the growing babybump on his wife's stomach.

"Teddy, how many times do I have to say this? We are not naming our child Nymphadora Andromeda."

"You got to name this one, though," Teddy whined, pointing to Prince William Arthur Lupin.

"Yes, and then you basically renamed him to Prince, so I think I get control of the next name, too."

"Women," Teddy huffed. It caused Victoire to roll her eyes. This was, essentially, a normal morning in the Lupin household.

"We should get going, Ted," James finally said. "We're supposed to meet them in a half hour, and we can't apparate directly there."

Teddy nodded in agreement. "Goodbye, my wonderful, occasionally blasphemous wife," he said, kissing Victoire on the cheek. "Goodbye, Prince William Arthur Lupin," he said, ruffling his son's hair. "Goodbye, Nymphadora Andromeda Lupin," he said, patting his wife's belly. Then, with a flourish, he apparated out of his home.

Ted appeared in front of a building that seemed quite nondescript. He sat down on a bench on the roadside and waited for James to appear.

"It's ugly," said James as he appeared with a pop next to Lupin. Lupin grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"Ah, Jamesie," he said. "It's what's on the inside that counts, my dear brother."

"Ah, Teddy," James replied in the same fashion. "You are as completely insane as usual."

Arm in arm, they walked up to the door and knocked. They had to wait for a minute or two, but then the door was opened by a man. He was dressed in all black, but his hair was long, wild, and a contrasting gold, and so were his eyes. This was good. If Teddy was meeting a man with gold eyes, that meant that his blue hair really wasn't technically out of place.

"You're early," said the man, but he stepped back to let them enter.

"Daddy, that's rude," said a voice from somewhere in the shadows of the entryway. This voice had an American accent, unlike the voice of the man. His accent wasn't British, though. It was more lilting than that. Interesting.

Teddy peered around to see if he could see where it was coming from, but he couldn't see anything. Strange. It sounded like a child's voice.

The man, however, appeared less confused. In fact, he seemed to know exactly what was happening.

"No, Stevie, you're being rude," he said with a sigh. "If you're going to spy on our conversation, you may as well come out here and greet our guests."

"You weren't _having_ a conversation," said the boy as he stepped into the light. Teddy smirked. The boy had red hair, and it was almost a perfect Weasley red. Apparently, there were Weasley-esque people even outside of the Wizarding World.

The man shot them an apologetic look before turning back to his son. "Well, we would have if you hadn't interrupted. Was Teresa with you?"

"Yeah, but she ran away. Wimp."

"Be nice to your sister," said the man sternly, but Teddy could see his eyes twinkling. Evidently, his son noticed that, too.

"You call _me_ a wimp, though," said the boy, Stevie, indignantly.

"Yes, but only to your face," said the man laughing openly. He turned back to his guests with another apologetic look. "I'm sorry about him. I'm Jace Herondale. This is Stephen, but we usually call him Stevie."

"Ah. Well, I'm Edward Lupin, but most people call me Teddy." Teddy winked at Stevie. "I know a thing or two about terrible names."

"And yet you want to name your child Nymphadora Andromeda," drawled James. He stepped forward and held out his hand for Jace to shake. "I'm James Potter, and somehow between Teddy and I I've managed to be the mature one."

"Stop undermining my authority," whined Teddy.

"You don't have authority, Teds. I don't know what Dad was thinking, putting you in charge of me."

Jace watched them with an amused expression on his face. When they finished bickering, he said, "Okay, well, you can follow me. There are a couple others we're going to meet with." He turned to look at his son, and said to him, "You go find Teresa. I want you two to train on your own, okay? Bow and arrow. Also, don't kill each other. Your mother would kill me if you did. Then Uncle Alec would kill your mother, and we'd all be dead." Stevie laughed and ran away, down a dark hallway.

Jace beckoned to Teddy and James to follow him and led them through twisting hallways. Everything looked the same. It was terribly confusing. Without realizing it, Teddy's hair changed to a pale grey colour to mirror his confusion. He felt James elbow him in the ribs.

"Your hair," he hissed at Teddy under his breath. Teddy made a confused face at him. "It's grey," clarified James.

Teddy regarded him for a second and then shrugged. "I'm in the mood for grey hair. Blue is too typical. I need a change."

"You're such a _girl_ ," whined James.

Jace looked back at them. "You can change your hair colour?" he looked surprised at first, but seemed to quickly mask it.

"I can change my whole appearance," Teddy explained. "I'm a metamorphagi." He changed his nose into a pig snout and then back. This time, Jace hardly looked fazed. He just nodded and turned back around to open the door to a room.

It was the library, obviously, since there were books piled just about everywhere. They walked around a couple of corners and came to what looked like a central room of the library. There were already two people sitting at a table, and there were five more chairs open.

The two people, who had seemed to be deep in conversation, stood as they entered. The woman had red hair, but it wasn't as Weasley-red as the boy's had been, thank Merlin. Teddy did _not_ want to be surrounded by Weasley-looking people when he didn't have to be. He was married to a Weasley, for Merlin's sake.

The man was quite plain in comparison. He was skinny and had black hair. They all had marks tracing their skin. Some were dark black, while others were silvery and looked like they shimmered when they turned. Those were runes, Teddy remembered. They were sort of like magic, but not really. Or something.

"I'm Clarissa Herondale," said the woman, smiling at them. She shook each of their hands in turn. "You can call me Clary, though."

"I'm Edward Lupin, but you should call me Teddy." Teddy paused in thought for a moment, before adding, "I don't respond to Edward."

"I'm James Potter," said James, stepping partially in front of Teddy.

"You can call him Jamesie, though," added Teddy, pushing James out of the way.

"You really can't," said James, as the rest of the group laughed.

"I'm Alexander Lightwood," said the last of the group. "But I go by Alec. I'm the head of the London Institute, here."

The group sat down, and James began. "Right, so technically I'm Teddy's trainee," he said. Everyone looked at Teddy who was leaned back in his chair, a contented smile on his face, before James continued, "and I suppose you could say he's the better fighter of the two of us. But, erm, I'll probably be doing most of the talking."

Clary chuckled a little, and both Jace and Alec turned to look at her incredulously. "Sorry," she said in response to their looks. "I just can't help thinking that all hell will break loose between Teddy and Magnus when he gets here."

"Magnus?" asked James, whie Teddy grinned and added, "I like the sound of him." Magnus Bane, thought Teddy, was a very cool name. Just like Teddy Lupin. Teddy was going to make a new best friend.

Jace nodded but said, "I guess this a good place to start. Magnus Bane and Tessa Carstairs will be joining us, hopefully soon. The Ministry allowed us to place them in Hogwarts. They're each warlocks. Magnus will be teaching, what was it?" he asked, looking at Alec for help.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts," Alec continued seamlessly for him. "He's also the head of Hufflepuff house. Tessa is the Matron."

"Head of Hufflepuff?" asked Teddy. He grinned. Definitely best friend material.

Jace nodded and looked at him questioningly.

"Ignore him for now," James said helpfully. "He'll turn into business mode at some point and actually become helpful. I think."

"Right," said Clary. "Well, when they get here we can discuss the Hogwarts situation. What is the Ministry's view on the situation with the Fair Folk right now?"

"Shacklebolt, the Minister, isn't too concerned, I don't think," said James. "Teddy would know better than I do, he's in direct contact with the Minister."

Four heads turned around to Teddy, who was actually looking relatively prepared to talk, for once. "Right, well, I'm not really in direct contact with the minister. I'm in direct contact with the Head Auror. Also," he said, looking pointedly at James, "You live with the head Auror. You're in more direct contact than I am."

"We don't talk about work at home. Not the point, Teds."

"Sorry to interrupt," put in Clary, "But could you maybe run us through some family details, so we actually know what you're talking about when you talk like that?"

"Sorry," said Teddy, having the good sense to look a little bit abashed.

"Well," said James, "my dad is Harry Potter. He's the Head Auror. My uncle, Ron Weasley, is the Deputy Head. Teds is married to Uncle Ron's neice, so that makes him somehow related. Also, he's Harry's godson, and grew up with his grandmother, but was often at our house when we were all kids. So he's like my annoying older brother, even though we're not actually realted."

"That was confusing," said Alec. "It didn't help."

"It helped me," said Jace, sitting up a little bit straighter. "I always knew my brain was superior to yours."

"Not the time, Jace," said Clary, but she looked amused.

So, these people weren't completely serious all the time, Teddy realized. He liked them all a little bit more now.

"Anyways," said Teddy, "he doesn't think it's a big issue. He's a little bit worried about some sort of isolated attacks happening, but I think he thinks each world will keep to itself, like we always have in the past."

"It won't happen like that," said Jace. He was repeatedly spinning a very sharp knife around and around on the table. "They Fair Folk want wands. I'm not certain on that, but it would make the most sense. We know they want revenge for what the Clave did, we knew that as soon as they put all the laws on the Fey. But the Seelie Queen will want more than that. She was in league with Jonathan, after all. And the only place he didn't look was to the wizarding world." He seemed to almost spit out the name Jonathan. "Actually, most of that is what Magnus thinks. But I'm pretty sure he's right about this."

"That makes sense," put in James. "They have their own sort of magic, and wands could probably increase their capabilities with it."

"Exactly," said an unfamilliar voice. It was accompanied by an unfamilliar man striding into the room, with an amused looking woman following him. They were an interesting pair. Anyone looking could tell they were good friends, however where the man was all glitter and bright colours, the woman was much more reserved and seemed gentle.

Teddy watched him, grinning a little bit. Colours were good. Lots of bright colours. Yes.

Alec rose and gave the man a peck on the lips before turning back to the group with a bit of a blush and saying, "This is Magnus Bane and Teresa Carstairs. They are the warlocks who are at Hogwarts."

"Pleasure," said Magnus, with a sort of sweeping bow. "Now, lets get down to business."

Definitely best friend material.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, reviews made the chapter come faster! The first few are big big worldbuilding chapters, so sorry if they're kinda boring :( it starts to pick up pretty soon, though!


	4. Chapter 3

There was a single NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts class, meaning naturally, Albus, Scorpius, and Rose were all in it. Upon walking in, Albus slid into the seat beside Scorpius, as had been tradition since first year Defence. Rose was sitting in front of them, beside her best friend and fellow Gryffindor Alice Longbottom. The two were chattering away in whispers, but occasionally threw looks back at Albus and Scorpius and giggled.

Bloody girls.

“What d’you think they’re talking about?” Scorpius muttered to Al as he fidgeted with his wand, using silent spells to turn his parchment different colours.

“Us, by the looks of it,” Al muttered back.

“Us? What about us, then? We aren’t even that interesting,” scoffed Scorpius in reply.

“Scorp, my friend, if I knew we wouldn’t be sitting here speculating, would we?” Albus ruffled his hair in a manner stunningly similar to James whenever he was being overconfident.

Scorpius raised an eyebrow in response. “You’re not wrong, I suppose. Although,” Scorpius looked suddenly nervous, “You don’t think Rose is telling her about the top secret thing you told us, do you?”

“She’s not that daft,” said Albus in annoyance. “At least, I hope not. What do you think class will be like with Magnus, anyhow?”

His mood from the previous day had subsided, although he did often exist in a perpetually-grumpy state. Being back at the castle had improved his demeanour incredibly, as had being around Scorpius again. He had been travelling with his father for the summer, and as such the two had not seen each other since the end of the school year. Even their letter exchanges were infrequent, as the distances had been far for even magical owls to travel.

Being back in the castle with Scorpius felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Scorpius made him better – and brighter, somehow. He always felt more alive when he was around Scorpius, and that had been true since the day they’d met, even if for their first couple years at Hogwarts Albus had thought Scorpius an annoying, lofty bugger.

“I dunno,” Scorpius muttered back dubiously. “He seemed quite…flamboyant, didn’t he? All the glitter and hand waving. Looked like Professor Longbottom didn’t quite know what to do with him, and that man always knows what to do.”

Albus eyed his friend and smirked. “You think he’s fit, don’t you?” It gave him a strange twinge to think about this, but he pushed it aside. He was possessive of Scorp and everyone knew it. The last thing Al needeed was Scorpius abandoning him for a romantic interest, no matter who it might be. Rose had already practically abandoned them, and it was quite annoying. Bloody best mates.

Scorpius eyed Albus. “Professor Longbottom? I know he’s a war hero and all, but mate – too old.”

“You know exactly what I meant. You _do_ think he is, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Al,” groaned Scorp, accompanied with a harsh smack to Albus’ head. This resulted in a full out tussle between the two, that was stopped only when a strong force sent them careening away from each other and out of their desks.

“Right, now that you’re all not trying to rip each other’s hair out like teenage girls, we can begin,” came a voice from the front of the classroom as Albus and Scorpius both stood up and dusted themselves off. At the front of the room stood the eccentric looking Professor Bane. Today he had a line of gold, glittery eyeliner below eyes that looked suspiciously like cat eyes. Not that Al noticed such things. One bloke does not ever examine another bloke’s eyes, as a general rule of thumb.

“Albus, is it?” asked Professor Bane lazily. He had sat down on the desk, one leg crossed over the other, hands in his lap.

“Yes sir,” responded Albus as he and Scorpius sat back down.

“I had the privilege of meeting your brothers the other day. Interesting individuals. You don’t seem very similar to them, though. Pity,” he said with a shrug.

Albus glanced over and Scorpius, who was sitting there with a distinct _is-this-guy-for-real_ look on his face as Professor Bane walked towards the front of the clasroom and stood almost directly in front of Rose’s desk.

“Anyways,” he began, turning with a flourish, only to walk back to his desk and sit down again. Strange bloke. “I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. I am also, supposedly a Professor. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m actually not a wizard.” The class erupted into excited whispers. Rose looked distinctly panicked. Albus smirked. 

“What I am is a warlock. Which means I’ll be better at magic than any of you will ever be. You wave those little sticks all around all the time, and quite frankly, it’s frightening. One day someone will poke my eye out.

“That being said, I also can’t use a wand to do magic because of the ministry’s guidelines, since I’m technically not human.”

“Sir-” interjected Rose. Professor Bane raised an eyebrow at her. “If you’re not a wizard, then how, exactly, are you going to teach us?”

“Interesting question, Miss…”

“Weasley, sir.”

“Ah, yes. Miss Wembleby.” Albus and Scorpius looked at each other and snickered. This was going to be one hell of a class. “This minor problem does complicate things a little bit. I don’t really know how to teach at all, but FRET NOT,” his voice rose to a shout as he leapt from the table. “You are capable seventh year students; you can teach yourselves. So, move along. Duel each other or something. Make it interesting for me.”

And with that, Professor Bane sat down at his desk, leaned back in his char, and pulled out a copy of _Witch Weekly_.

Al glanced over at Scorpius to exchange grins but instead saw him ready his wand. Albus’ grin turned into a smirk as he sent a silent stunning spell back Scorpus’ way. If there was one thing that he, Albus Severus Potter, was better at than Scorpius, it was Defence.

Oh, and Quidditch. 

Scorpius went flying backwards and knocked over a particularly annoying group of Hufflepuff girls, much to Albus’s pleasure. Once Scorpius had collected himself, their duel started in earnest, prompting the entire class to back to the edges of the classroom. Both boys were focused intently on getting through one another’s weaknesses, but, much to Al’s current chagrin, their skills were proving matched and neither could get an advantage against the other.

Jinxes were muttered out loud, and curses were sent silently so they couldn’t get in trouble for it. Naturally, they never sent the curses with intent to harm each other, but a little bit of frightening competition was always fun. Albus neatly dodged what he knew was a _sectumsemptra_ spell coming from Scorpius and retaliated silently with exactly the same spell of his own.

And of course, Scorpius _bloody_ Malfoy picked that moment to decide to pay more attention to Professor Bane than the duel he was in. Al watched in shock as his best friend collapsed on the ground, blood gushing from his chest.

Albus surged towards Scorpius, but was stopped by some invisible force before he could even come close. “Professor,” growled Albus angrily as he pushed at the barrier, trying to get past it and to his best friend. The bloody barrier wouldn’t move.

“Everybody out,” came Professor Bane’s voice from directly behind Al. “Class dismissed.”

“But Professor-” Al began, only to be interrupted by a much louder demand on the part of Professor Bane. Resignedly, Al turned to leave, but not before giving one last look back at his best friend, bleeding on the ground.

“Albus Severus Potter, _what did you do_ ,” hissed Rose as soon as Al stepped out into the corridor.

“I hit him with a jinx,” he responded sheepishly.

“ _What jinx?_ ” There was a deadly glint in Rose’s eyes. Rose was the type of person who could go from cheerful to angry in less than a second, and an angry Rose was a dangerous Rose. Not to mention he had just their best mate with a curse. If Rose was anything, it was protective of the people she loved.

“Sectumsemptra,” replied Al even more sheepishly. Rose slapped him. Hard.

“You mean,” she began in a deadly quiet voice, “the spell that lost Uncle George HIS EAR?”

“Keep it down,” hissed Al. “The whole world doesn’t have to know I accidentally cursed my best friend.”

They had been walking towards the Gryffindor common room, but Al stopped Rose before they could get to close. While the three other houses got along better with Slytherin than they had in their parents’ days, Gryffindor still liked picking fights with Slytherins, espeically with good justification for it. Regardless of the fact that he had, in fact, cursed someone from his own house, this was exactly the kind of justification a Gryffindor would look for. Bloody self-righteous gits.

“You deserve all of Gryffindor to know, Albus,” huffed Rose. Her anger had simmered down, albeit slightly, and Al was feeling a little bit less frightened for his life. Bloody temperamental girls.

“Just keep it down,” he groaned. “Plus, I only thought of using _sectumsemptra_ because _he_ used it first. And he wouldn’t have been hit if he hadn’t been so busy oggling Magnus freaking Bane.”

“Oh, so you’re blaming it on the professor now?” Rose raised her eyebrows, eyes still icy. “When you’re the one that used _sectumsemptra_ in a room full of bystanders? Anyone could have gotten hit, and you’d be in a lot more trouble if it hadn’t been Scorpius. You’re in deep, Albus. I’m not helping you get out of this one. And the sooner you can admit your feelings, the better for all of us.” Rose turned on her heel and marched off to the Gryffindor common room.

“What feelings?” Albus called after her, but she didn’t turn around. Bloody useless best mates, talking nonsense. Albus knew better than to go after her – she was angry, probably at Scorpius too, and she’d need a lot of time to cool down.

With nothing better to do, Albus turned and headed towards the hospital wing, hoping that Scorpius was there and more or less healed. Classes were still going on, so the corridors were relatively empty which was a relief; it meant no one had heard what had happened yet, and no one had a reason to hate him. Yet.

“Potter,” came a voice, rousing him from his thoughts. It was McGonagall, standing outside outside of the door to the hospital wing. Bloody brilliant. “May I have a word?” She beckoned towards the door of the hospital wing.

Albus felt his face whiten with nerves. It sounded like Scorpius wasn’t here or wasn’t awake, and clearly Al was in some huge trouble.

“Scorpius is fine, Albus,” said McGonagall, her face softening slightly as if sensing his worry. Her face hardened again and her eyes flashed as she said, “I’ll be needing to talk to both of you about why _exactly_ such a curse was used, let alone in a classroom.”

Albus sheepishly followed her inside, but brightened when he set eyes on his best mate, sitting up in bed and also looking distinctly worried about McGonagall’s presence. Under McGonagall’s penetrating gaze, Al sat down on Scorpius’ bed. Scorp shifted over to make room for him so they could sit side-by-side.

“Well, I believe we all know why we’re here. Would one of you care to explain yourselves?”

Albus glanced at Scorpius, who had opened his mouth to reply, and smoothly cut off whatever he had been about to say. “It was my fault, Professor,” said Albus. “Duel’s between Scorp and I are fast, and I guess I was under pressure because everyone was watching. I was trying to think of more creative spells and that one just came up in my mind, and I guess I sent it as a silent spell,” he lied.

McGonagall regarded him silently for a moment, and Albus tried not to shift his gaze to show that he was being untruthful. “Albus, Scorpius, need I remind you that I taught _both_ of your parents here when they were students.” She paused for a moment, but it was clear she hadn’t believed a word that Albus had said. “I happen to know that you are two of the school’s most adept Defence students and I am sure you are capable of dueling at a level that is fit for a classrom, as well as two grown wizards. I will flooing both of your parents. I am sure you will be more inclined to tell the truth if we are all together in my office. I will send a student down to collect you when they arrive, but until then you two are to stay here. Understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” mumbled Scorpius and Albus in unison. McGonagall turned swifly and exited the infirmary, robes billowing in her wake.

Albus turned and regarded Scorpius silently for a moment. Bloody distracted best mates.

“You could have paid more attention, you arse,” he finally said, resting his head on Scorp’s shoulder. “Hardly an even fight if you don’t.”

“This is an experience, though,” responded Scorp despondently. “I never thought I’d end up in the infirmary of Hogwarts because I nearly bled out.” He dropped his voice somewhat and muttered conspiratorially to Albus, “and now we get to meet the new Matron, anyways. If you’re going to do anything, may as well do it dramatically, right?”

As if on cue, the new Matron that they had seen at the Professors table at the welcoming feast, Madame Gray, walked in.

“You must be Albus,” she said, giving him a small smile. “Scorpius,” she said, turning her attention, “you should be fine to go now, although from what I hear you’ll be here for a little bit longer anyways.” Al could see her eyes twinkling, even though she clearly looked at them with some disapproval.

“Madame Gray,” began Scorpius, but the Matron stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“I’d prefer you call me Tessa. I hear you’re two of Slytherin’s star quidditch players, so I’m sure I’ll be seeing lots of you. We may as well become friendly now.”

“Er, right. Tessa, sorry, but – you’re a warlock, yeah?”

She raised her eyebrows as if she had been expecting the question but wasn’t sure how to respond. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I told you otherwise. I am, but try to keep it from spreading. People aren’t supposed to know.”

“Oh, we know,” responded Albus with a smirk. “But that didn’t stop Professor Bane telling the whole class of us that he was actually a warlock and didn’t know how to teach.”

Tessa looked at him in horror, but before she could reply someone barged in through the door. It was Rose. Bloody hell.

“Professor McGonagall wants you two in her office,” she said after a brief smile at the matron. Her eyes were cold towards the two boys. Clearly, she had gotten angrier, if that was even possible. Bloody temperamental girl.

Albus and Scorpius stood up to exit. As they passed Rose, Ablus was sure he could physically feel the frigidity of her glare.

“Good luck, boys,” said Tessa, her voice seeming to almost laugh. “Also – Miss Weasley, is it?” she asked, to which Rose nodded and turned back. “Could I have a word with you?”

The rest of the conversation was drowned out as the door shut behind the boys, and the best friends faced the long walk to McGonagall’s office.

“How much d’you bet our parents will kill each other?” asked Scorp as they walked.

“A galleon that they’ll be dead before we get into the room,” replied Al with a snicker. It stopped as they arrived at the gargoyle to the Headmistress’ office. “How much d’you bet our parents will kill us?”


	5. Chapter 4

Teddy's cubicle at the Auror office was a mess. Not that Teddy minded, of course. It was an organized mess. He could find everything. Except, maybe, for that one, very important document on the Seelie Queen case. Not that it was lost. It was just…momentarily misplaced.

"JAMES," he yelled across the office. He actually didn't know where James was, it was more of a generalized yell in the hopes that James would hear it.

The meeting with Magnus and company was in half an hour, and he needed to review the file before they went over. Or rather, James needed to review the file and tell Teddy what was in it. Teddy was a fighter, a duelest. He was not a reader. The fact that he had passed the written portion of his NEWTs in order to become an Auror was nothing short of a miracle. It was, in fact, a small miracle in the form of private tutoring from Professor McGonagall herself.

"Looking for this?" James had appeared, dangling the imporant file in front of Teddy's face.

"James Potter, you blessed hero, conqueror of unspeakable fears," Teddy nearly shouted. "You have succeeded in bringing me the much treasured, ever important, top secret file."

"Well, it's not much of a secret any more, is it?" James smirked at Teddy, whose look of triumph had turned to a look of horror at the realization that he had just publicly proclaimed his glee over having a top secret file.

"Seriously, Ted," said James, "keep it down. This is important, even if, apparently, the minister doesn't think so."

"What's in the file, then?" asked Teddy with a rare display of responsibility. He sat down in his chair and leaned back to listen to James, who had perched himself on the messy desk.

"Well, it looks like Shacklebolt talked to the Clave. They're worried, but he's been passing it off as a Shadowhunter supremacy sort of thing. He doesn't think the Seelie Queen is actually going to do anything major."

"So it's low priority in the eyes of the Minister is what you're saying. Do we agree with this?"

"We'll hold off on a decision until we talk to the Shadowhunters. Somehow, I don't think we'll agree with the minister. I don't think he thinks anyone can be as bad as Voldemort."

Teddy sighed and rubbed his temples. He was pretty sure his hair had changed colour during this conversation. He hated that. It was like his emotions were written all over his hair or something. "Isn't Harry worried?" he asked after collecting his admittedly scattered thoughts.

"Yeah, but Shaklebolt is passing it off as stress after the Wizarding War. He said that Dad's been suspicious of everyone ever since. Which is true. Dad's a bit paranoid. So is Uncle Ron. But they hide it well, and I think he should trust Dad's opinion more. After all, Dad is Head Auror and he was the one that believed Voldemort was coming back when no one else did."

"You know," Teddy started, brightening at his own idea a little bit. James looked slightly trepaditious, which was natural, he supposed, considering Teddy's ideas were rarely any good. "I don't think Shaklebolt doesn't believe that anyone can be more evil than Voldemort," he paused for a moment, trying to mentally make sure his double negative at least sort of made sense. It was a long moment. It also didn't make sense, he didn't think, but he continued anyways, assuming that James would understand his point. "I think that he doesn't think that an area of the Ministry that no one ever talks about could be concerned with us, considering they don't talk about us either."

James nodded his head in agreement, which surprised Teddy. James rarely agreed with his ideas. Unless they weren't work related. Then James usually agreed with all of them.

"So, I guess we just have to prove that they are concerned with us. Or, you know, go into another war woefully unprepared," James sighed, slightly dramatically. That was one thing Teddy liked about James. James had a flare for the dramatic. Teddy did, too. And he liked drama. Once, he tried to start a drama club at Hogwarts, but apparently not many wizards feel acting is a suitable use of their time. And the Gryffindors, for whatever reason, bullied a lot of the Hufflepuffs into not coming. So, Teddy kept it up through his entire Hogwarts career as a one-man club. With creativity and individualism like his, he could practically have been a Ravenclaw.

"Are you two almost ready to go meet the Shadowhutners?" came a voice from the doorway of Teddy's cubicle. "You're going to be late."

Teddy looked up to see Harry Potter, the Head Auror and his godfather standing in the doorway. Harry's hair was graying faster these days, Teddy noticed. And the scar going across his face seemed to be more pronounced even than it had been the day he got it. Teddy didn't remember that day very well since he was at his grandmother's house, not Harry's, but he rememberd comign back over to a slightly more terrifying Harry. His lighning scar was hardly noticeable in comparison.

"We're just meeting Jace, Magnus, and Tessa at Hogwarts today," James told his father. "McGonagall's not even opening the floo line for another ten minutes."

"Oh? I'm actually also going into Hogwarts," Harry said. "Your brother is in a bit of trouble," he added in response to the questioning looks from both Teddy and James. At least, Teddy thought his look was questioning. Sometimes, when he tried to hard to convey thoughts through his facial expressions, he just ended up looking significantly constipated.

"What did he do?" asked James with a grin. He looked genuinely surprised that Albus was in trouble. Albus wasn't really one for getting in trouble. He didn't get into trouble, really. Actually, he did when he was younger, but he rarely got caught. Probably some sort of Slytherin voodoo.

"That's something he can tell you, if he wants to. McGonagall hasn't even told _me_ what's happened yet. She said she wanted Scorpius and Albus to tell us themselves." Harry responded.

James and Teddy both winced. "You and Draco Malfoy in the same room?" James asked. "Either something really bad happened or McGonagall is a complete nutter."

Harry gave James a stern, _that's-the-headmistress-you're-talking-about_ look. Or at least, that's what Teddy _thought_ the look meant. But he did add, "Not just me. Astoria and your mum will be there, too."

Teddy's eyes widened. He and James had both gotten into a lot of trouble by themselves at school, but never had Professor McGonagall been angry enough at them to have Ginny come in.

"He's a goner," Teddy said solomnley, shaking his head in disbelief.

"We should go," said James, breaking the solemn silence in the room, although he also appeared terrified on Albus' behalf. "McGonagall's going to open the her fireplace in five minutes, and I reckon she won't keep it open long if we're late. I'd rather not get dumped somewhere any less pleasant."

Together, the three of them trooped towards the lift that would take them to the Atrium in the ministry where the fireplaces were located. This was where McGonagall would open her floo to, since most offices in the ministry didn't have fireplaces and it would be foolish to have to apparate home only to floo into Hogwarts later.

After a rather uncomfortable lift ride involving awkward small talk (Teddy's least favourite thing) with the Minister for Magic himself, they arrived at the Atrium and in front of the fireplaces.

"See you in a moment," said Teddy brightly, winking at James, before he threw some floo powder into the fireplace. "Hogwarts!"

Floo powder was not, to say the least, Teddy's favourite method of travel. It was hot, uncomfortable, and generally disorienting. So, it was reasonable to say that it wasn't his own clumsiness that caused him to trip when he stepped out of the fireplace, landing in a heap in McGonagall's office.

He heard a noise that sounded like a cross between an amused snort and an embarrased groan and looked up to see Albus, Scorpius, Mr Malfoy, Mrs Malfoy, Ginny, and Professor McGonagall. Evidently, the noise had come from Scorpius, who was trying hard not to conceal a grin. Albus was doubled over in silent laughter.

Teddy stood up and cleared his throat in embarrasement. He couldn't be sure since there wasn't a mirror, but he had the distinct feeling that he had subconsciously changed his hair colour to some form of pink or red in his embarassement.

"Professor McGonagall," he said, extending his hand to the woman behind the desk. Teddy was pleased to see that her usually stern face appeared to be mildy amused. A mildly amused McGonagall was hard to achieve. Teddy was quite proud of himself.

"Mr Lupin," she responded. "And Mr Potter," she said, turning to the fireplace as James stepped through. "You will find Professor Bane in his office. Third floor, past the statue of Warwick the Weird. You are invited to stay for dinner and eat with your family, if you would like."

The atmosphere of the room was distinctly awkward. Teddy hated awkwardness. He noticed that Albus and Scorpius had both stopped laughing and were now just staring. Typical.

"Thanks, Headmistress," said James. Clearly James seeemed to have some of the presence of mind that Teddy didn't. What a boring way to live life.

They both stepped out of the office just as Harry stepped through in from the fireplace.

"Well that was awkward," said James finally.

"Are we staying for dinner? I miss Hogwarts food. Really just any food, I haven't eaten since lunch," said Teddy as he followed James down the staircase and jumped one of the trick stairs.

"We'll stay for dinner if Al and Scorpius are alive after that meeting, I want to hear what it's all about," responded James. Teddy couldn't tell whether or not his grin was a little bit triumphant. Probably was, he reflected.

"You know, I can't believe McGonagall brought Mum in to deal with Al, of all people," said James thoughtfully. "I had thougtht it would have been one of us. Remember that time I hexed Henry Zabini and he sprouted wings?" Teddy roared with laughter at the memory.

"You were only in second year," guffawed Teddy. "I think she was impressed with that one, really. What second year can make a bloke grow wings?"

They were both laughing as they stopped in front of the door to Magnus' office. James knocked as Teddy tried to calm down, but he was still laughing as they entered the room. It was okay, though. Laughter was good. Teddy liked laughing.

"Welcome," said Magnus with a flourishing bow. Jace and Tessa appeared to have already seated themselves around Magnus' desk, so Teddy conjured up two chairs so that he and James could join them.

Teddy looked aroudn the room and decided he liked Magnus even more than when he had first met him. It was full of old books and runes and, most importantly, glitter. The only thing that Teddy found strange was the unsettlingly still picture of Magnus, Alec, and two young boys sitting on Magnus' desk.

"What's been happening on your side?" asked Jace, forgoeing all pleasantries. Teddy didn't like Jace very much. He was too serious. "I mean, with the Ministry?"

"Nothing has changed, really," said Teddy. "They don't believe anything."

"Shacklebolt reckons dad is going mad," added James. "Thinks he's paranoid after the first big war. Doesn't want to believe that the Seelie's would bug us now, seeing as they've never bothered us before."

"Typical," said Magnus, with a small snort.

There was a moment's pause before Tessa, looking thoughtful, said, "We need to find a way to make the ministry believe the Seelies will be a problem. Before they actually become a problem."

Teddy considered this for a moment, along with all the others, but then grinned. "Veritaseum."

"What?" asked James and Jace together. They were both staring. Teddy wasn't a fan of staring, either, unless he was the one doing it.

"We catch a faeire. Then we use veritaseum on it to make it tell the truth about what they're up to." He, Theodore Remus Lupin, was a genius.

"Ted," groaned James. "Faeries already can't lie. Veritaseum won't help us. Although capturing one wouldn't be a bad idea."

"No, he's right," put in Tessa, just as Teddy's spirit had begun to fall. "Just because they can't lie doesn't mean they'll tell the truth.:

"The faerie might just refuse to talk, though," put in Jace. Teddy grinned triumphantly. His idea was smart. He was smarter than Jace.

"Veritaseum forces the drinker to talk," responded Teddy smugly. "The faeire would have to tell the truth plainly, they'll have to answer."

"Perfect," grinned Jace, almost ferally. "So, how do we go about doing this?"

"Legally we have to consult the Wizengamot first," sighed James. "We have to get permission for it. It'll be hard but I don't think it's impossible. I know for a fact that there are people on the Wizengamot that are as concerned as we are, and all we need is a majority vote."

Magnus nodded at this. "You and Theodore do that, then," he replied. "We'll keep an ear out on in the Shadowhunter world as much as we can. We can reconvene here when your process is done."

"It'll take a while," said Teddy. "If we're at the end of September now, it'll be close to Christmas probably, before we have the go ahead."

"Fine then," responded Jace. "We'll meet in a week or two, here, and discuss what we can do in the interim."

All agreed, Teddy stood up with James to leave.

"You know, I'm worried about you, Ted," said James as the door closed behind them. "You didn't say a single strange thing all evening."

"Not to worry, mate," responded Teddy, grinning although he was slightly put out at himself. He hopped onto James' back, startling him and almost causing him to topple. "Onward, good steed. Dinner awaits!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely did not screen this for typos, please don't hate me!! Also forgive me for updating slow, time is weird and I'm apparently incapable of a regular posting schedule.

Albus felt Scorp’s had close around his wrist as they arrived at the Headmistress’ door. Was he that scared? Al looked over and no, he realized, Scorpius was not scared. He had a wicked grin on his face, the grin that had become Albus’ favourite sight over the years. In his other hand, he held two extendable ears. Bloody amazing best mates.

Scorpius put his finger to his lips in a shushing motion and handed Al an ear. Albus felt Scorpius’ hand release his wrist as both boys dropped to their knees and put the end of the ears by the door. The voices were fuzzy at first, but then came into focus.

“Of course I’m aware,” said a haughty voice that could belong only to Scorpius’ father. “One would be a fool to not understand what this means.”

“For once, we agree on things.” Albus could hear the surpise in his fathers voice. He saw Scorpius bloody Malfoy smirking at him out of the corner of his eye and gave him a smack on the head for good measure. Bloody best mates.

“…catch a fae,” Albus heard as he tuned back in to the voice of his own father. “Mind you, this is strictly confidential. I haven’t told you any of this.”

“I believe I can be of service and provide you a means to that end,” came Draco’s smooth voice again.

 _Catch a fae?_ Albus mouthed to Scorp. Scorpius’ eyes were wide but he merely shrugged at Albus, almost helplessly.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, if you could come by headquarters,” his father’s voice came again. Shuffling and some undiscernable mutterings and gruntings followed and the boys reeled in their ears. Albus passed his to Scorpius who stuffed him into his pocket. He then gave Al a bracing smile before knocking on the headmistress’ door.

“Come in,” came McGonagall’s stern voice from the other side. It was Al who reached forward and turned the knob, the door opening easily under his hand.

He stepped to the side to let Scorpius slide in behind him and then took stock of the room. His parents were sitting close to the door, his mother closest and his father on the other side. His mother looked practically livid, which was never a good sign. His father looked tired, which was arguable even worse. There were two empty seats, presumably for him and Scorpius, separating the Potters and the Malfoys. Draco Malfoy looked haughty, he lounged in his chair, but still somehow looked aristocratic and graceful while doing it. Scorpius was much the same, Al reflected, although he could never quite manage looking as graceful. Perhaps it was his build – all knees and elbows where his father was strong and lithe. Not that he noticed these things, they were all _men_ for Merlin’s sake. Astoria Malfoy looked miffed, and was cooly regarding Albus. She, more than anyone else, made him feel disappointed in himself. Scorp’s mum had accepted him warmly and unquestioningly when he and Scorp had become friends. She and Draco understood him in a way his parents never could, what with him being a Slytherin and all.

Albus had the good sense to look abashed, and Astoria’s face softed. His mother’s face, however, hardened at the exchange. Ginny had never warmed up to Scorp’s dad, and Albus couldn’t blame her. As nice as they were, he knew Draco was still involved in some shady stuff. His father, however, had less problems with them. Al knew they had agreed to live and let live for the sake of the boys, and that included staying out of each others business. Even if Al’s dad was an Auror.

McGonagall looked angrier than Albus had ever seen her. He sat gingerly in the chair next to his parents under her seething gaze. The lines on her face cast harsh shadows in the torch-light of her office, making her look more formidable than usual. Scorpius sat on his other side, his leg pressed up against Al’s.

“I think,” began McGonagall once they were seated, “You boys have some explaining to do about what _exactly_ possessed you to use highly dangerous curses in the middle of a classroom duel.”

Albus opened his mouth with the intent to tell the room it was his fault and take the blame. Scorpius had been hit, and that was punishment enough for him.

“Don’t,” the Headmistress held up a hand towards Ablus, gesturing for him to stop speaking. “Do not even think for a minute I will believe you if you say it was just your fault, Mr Potter. I know you were both casting curses, Ms Granger-Weasley has already told me what she saw.”

Bloody fucking Rose.

“It was both of us,” Scorpius responded, pressing his leg harder against Al’s, as if he needed the support. “We do it often, neither of us have gotten hurt before. It was my fault, really. I got distracted. Normally we’d never hurt each other, we’re too equally matched.”

Albus watched each adult in the room as all their faces tightened at the words. The bloody git had to go and be too bloody honest, of course.

“Curses like this aren’t a game, boys,” began Albus’ dad in his lecture voice. He, James, and Lily all called it that. When Harry Potter, the Chosen One, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord turned his lecture voice on, you knew it was going to be a long, long day. “Especially when you have classmates around. What if one of you had missed and hit someone else?”

“We don’t miss,” Al responded sullenly. They had been competing similarly since…well, since forever really. Before Albus and Scorpius had become friends in their fifth year they would intentionally throw the worst curses they could think of at each other – the ones that weren’t unforgivable, at least. Somehow, this had resulted in a near equal duelling capacity – neither boy had wanted to be bested by the other.

Their friendship as it developed had changed the tone of the courses. No longer was there an intent to injure – merely to keep each other engaged. They hadn’t ever talked about it either. The pace of their duels simply changed along with their friendship. Throwing in surprise curses and jinxes kept them on their toes. Whatever anyone else said, Albus was certain they were better duelists for it. Of course bloody Scorpius Malfoy had to stop paying attention and get them both in shite. Bloody best mates.

“You’re human. You make mistakes. Clearly, or we wouldn’t be here today,” Albus’ father replied, looking between the two. “This is absolutely unacceptable, and Rose had every right to tell the Headmisstress exactly what transpired, so don’t think for a minute that we will tolerate you two harassing her for it.”

Albus shifted under his fathers’ glare. Sometimes, he wished his father would just bloody yell. Quiet disappointment from the Saviour of the Wizarding World was unbearable at times. It would be so much easier if he would just blow up, like Uncle Ron and Rose did with each other. Anger was something Albus could handle – the aforementioned Weasley cousin had given him plenty of practice. Disappointment, though, that was bloody painful.

McGonagall cleared her throat and Albus’ attention snapped to his headmistress. A small knot of anxiety began to curl in his stomach as reality set in. She could expell them – in fact, she had every right to. He leaned in until his arm was brushing Scorp’s,taking comfort from his best mate’s steady presence beside him. Scorp looked nervous too, Al thought when he sneaked a glance over.

“I spoke with your parents before you arrived,” she began, her face set in hard, stern lines. “We agreed that you have both suffered consequences as a result of Scorpius’ injuries. I do hope this experience will make you less likely to be utter fools in the future.”

Scorpius looked as incredulous as Albus felt. Was the headmistress going to let them off with – a warning? But then she raised her eyebrows. Letting them off free was not bloody likely, Albus realized, but it sounded like they were avoiding explusion at the very least.

“You will serve detention with Hagrid every Saturday night until I decide otherwise. He has a special project he needs help with.” She spoke with finality, but Albus couldn’t help feeling horrified. Clearly, Scorp was thinking the same.

“But _professor-_ ”

“Quidditch is-”

They spoke at the same time, but went silent immediately when Astoria cleared her throat pointedly.

“Maybe you should have thought of that,” began Albus’ mom, filling in the silence Astoria left seamlessly, “before you went around carelessly tossing curses at each other. You’re lucky it’s not explusion for you.”

She was giving Ablus the look he had long ago termed That Look. Both James and Lily had mastered it, too, but Albus had never been able to look quite as fierce and fiery as any of them could when angry. He had also long ago learned that whenever That Look appeared, the best mode of defence was to bloody shut up and listen or there would be hell to pay.

“And should either of you attempt to pull a stunt that moronic ever again,” began Astoria from Al’s other side, “we will stand behind whatever form of punishment the headmistress chooses. Even if it goes so far as expulsion.”

Having basically two sets of parents, reflected Ablus, was bloody annoying. He merely mutely nodded in response. And, he supposed, they had a point. Even he wasn’t cocky enough to fail to recognzie the danger he had put Scorpius in. And Merlin, he felt bloody awful.

“Well,” said McGonagall, “Thank you for that, Mrs Malfoy. I’m sure both boys are smarter than that.” She placed a pointed look in the direction of Albus and Scorpius. “You boys are to report to the Entrance Hall at seven o’clock this Saturday. Hagrid will be there to meet you. You are both free to go – might I suggest going straight back to your common room to catch up on the class work you’ve missed today. Scorpius, be sure you see Madame Pomfrey in the morning. She’ll need to apply more dittany to reduce scarring.”

“Yes, Professor,” said Scorpius meekly. He stood up and Albus followed, aware of the five sets of eyes following them as they crosseed the room to the door.

“Perhaps I will escort you down,” came the voice of Draco Malfoy for the first time all meeting. “And make sure you two get to where you’re supposed to be with as few detours as possible.”

Albus didn’t turn around, but he felt Scorpius shrug in defeat at his side. He slipped out of the door and waited for Scorpius and Mr Malfoy to follow. Behind him, he could hear Astoria and his mother chatting to each other. Those two were too bloody close, it made life difficult for himself and Scorpius. Although, at the same time, he was glad at least their mothers were friends. Their fathers were always on guard with each other. Al and Scorp both knew what had happened in the war, and how tense their fathers’ relationship had been as classmates, but it was still bloody annoying, having fathers who constantly had to one-up each other. Some people never grew up.

The three of them descended the spiral staircase in silence. Mr Malfoy stepped out ahead of both boys and promptly headed in the wrong direction.

“Uh..dad?” Scorpius piped up tentatively. His face was scrunched up in a confused expression that normally made Albus laugh, but today his nerves hadn’t settled enough. He still felt anxious and uncomfortable – and even a little bit guilty.

“We’re taking the scenic route,” Draco said, glancing back. “Come on, then.”

“I thought you were making sure we wouldn’t be taking any detours,” said Albus. He couldn’t help the small smirk that pushed its way onto his face as he and Scorp followed Mr Malfoy’s broad, purposeful steps through the corridor.

“I wanted to speak with you both, Albus, and I’m not sure your father would approve of what I have to say.” The boys sped up until they were walking in pace with Draco, Scorpius on his left and Albus on his right.

“When Al’s father and I were in our sixth year, that very same curse was used on me. And by your father, no less, Albus.”

Albus felt his mouth for into a round, shocked O, but it was Scorpius who responded, aghast. “He did _what_?”

“You must understand, Scorpius, I would have cast something worse. But yes, he did.” The look on Mr Malfoy’s face was grim and set, and Ablus immediately felt his stomach drop. He tried not to think about what their parents were like in their school days as much as possible. He knew Scorp’s dad was downright awful – his own father was quite the wanker too if Aunt Hermione was to be believed. But hearing stories like this still hurt, even if he was old enough to understand that not even adults are infallible.

“I still have the scars. My point is,” he sighed and looked at both boys in turn. “You are both so much better than us. Yes, Albus,” Draco added, catching Albus’ incredulous look, “better than your father too. He was a right git, I promise you that.”

They had begun descending the stairs to the dungeons, Mr Malfoy moving with practiced ease as he dodged the trick stair on the second flight down.

“A curse like that is dark. I don’t mean it uses dark magic, but its purpose is inherently dark. There are better curses – ones that will keep you on your toes, ones that have negative side effects, but that won’t result in death. Or dismemberment,” he added wryly. “Proving yourselves better or best in a school boy duel isn’t worth your life. Neither is making mockery of things that are dark.”

“We weren’t mocking, dad. We really didn’t mean to hurt each other. We just like duels to be exciting,” Scorpius was whinging and they both knew it. Normally, it drove Albus up the wall – but somehow, when he was winging for Al’s sake, Al minded a hell of a lot less.

“Defence is so bloody boring,” intoned Al. “And this new professor doesn’t know anything. What else are we supposed to do?”

“Behave like responsible, upstanding citizens?” Scorpius scoffed in response. “As if.”

Albus could tell Draco was hiding a smile. Honestly, the man was just soft sometimes. But when he spoke again, his voice was hard. “Neither of you are able to fathom the evils that myself and your parents were facing at your age. You shouldn’t have to. But you need to respect that there are times in history that bare evils so unspeakable that you are _privilaged_ to have never experienced them. Life is not a game, boys, and dark curses aren’t a joke.”

“No one comes out unscarred,” toned Scorpius. “We know, dad. I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Albus added. “We didn’t really think.”

“I know,” said Draco. He sighed, almost in defeat. “You’re teenage boys – you shouldn’t have to think, and if the world were different, you wouldn’t have to. There’s always darkenss that hides at the edges.”

Draco paused as they reached the common room and turned to face both boys, his back against the wall. He looked tired, Albus thought. More tired than he should. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. Al glanced at Scorpius, who offered him a bracing smile and shifted a bit closer. For as long as they had been friends, they had always drawn on each others strength.

“I can’t tell you much, but I want you to know that there is some serious danger out there right now.”

“We know,” Ablus interrupted. “My dad told me, and I told Scorp,” he added sheepishly at Draco’s raised eyebrow. “But it’s not supposed to be that bad. That’s what everyone’s saying. It’s not even that serious.”

“Well,” said Draco evenly, “Everyone isn’t always right. You two are safe here in Hogwarts, but don’t go doing stupid things to put yourselves in extra danger anymore.”

“You’re right,” Scorp responded, much to Al’s chagrin. He wanted to know _more_. What was happening in the world outside Hogwarts? And what were the fae doing that everyone was trying so bloody hard to ignore – apparently even his own father, if Mr Malfoy was to believe.

Draco suddenly enfolded them both in a hug. It was strange. Mr Malfoy was never the huggy sort. He loathed physical affection, Albus knew, unless it was with Astoria. Bloody disgusting adults.

“Just be safe. I know you boys didn’t mean any harm. Now go get some rest. And,” he added, looking about as sheepish as Draco Malfoy could possibly look, “Don’t tell your parents what I told you, Al. Much of the business with the fae I’m not even supposed to know about.”

Albus grinned sardonically at Mr Malfoy. He wouldn’t have told anyways, he and Scorp knew that at least. For all his talk, they both knew Draco still dabbled in some Dark Arts clientel when managing the Malfoy family business. It had diminished since Scorp’s Grandad Malfoy had died but they all knew it still happened. It was unspoken knowledge in the Potter house, too. They didn’t ever talk about Scorp’s father, since Al’s dad was an Auror and all. Best not to let anyone know they knew anything. Pretend it didn’t exist and all that.

“Course not,” responded Al easily. “I’m not _that_ thick, Mr Malfoy.”

Draco gave him a small grin back. “Course not. Now get out of here.”

Al watched as Scorp gave his dad one last awkard hug before he gave the password to the Slytherin common room. It was abandoned, with the rest of the school in class or at lunch – Al wasn’t sure what time it was.

He glanced at Scorp, who looked pale as a ghost. “Let’s skive off the rest of lessons. You need rest, and I don’t bloody feel like going anyways.”

They settled onto the plush green couch. The common room fire was warm, and the eerie green light coming form the Black Lake was almost relaxing. Al settled his head against Scorp’s shouler. “I’m sorry, yeah? It was stupid of us to ever fight like that. I couldn’t bare seeing you get hurt like that ever again.”

Scorp reached out and squeezed his hand, interlocking their fingers. It felt like forgiveness. Albus didn’t pull away.

“Could’ve just as easily have been you, mate,” came Scorp’s soft reply. “I can’t imagine what I would have done if it had been.”

“Let’s not imagine it then.”

Albus felt his body relax as Scorp’s head leaned back against his own. His whole body felt warm and fuzzy and peaceful. They stayed like that as Scorpius fell asleep, thoughts of fae and danger far from Al’s mind.


	7. Chapter 6

Draco Malfoy was a stern man. Perhaps not in private, no, but this was what the world saw of him. He had to be stern and unshakeable, to keep the world guessing, because it kept his son safe.

Today, however, he was feeling particularly…shakeable. He wasn’t sure he gave off any sort of air of sternness, and he needed to get himself under control. But it was hard to do. He had met with Potter this morning, and after their conversation, he had gone to catch a fae.

And succeeded.

He had laid his cards out, and chosen a side – precisely the opposite side that his father and mother would have been on, had they still been around to care. The thought was unnerving. Even from beyond the grave, his father especially still had the ability to make him second guess his decisions.

He arrived at a decrepit building, and quickly double checked the address on the piece of parchment in his left hand. No – the address was right. He relaxed his mind, allowed his eyes to strip away the glamour as he had been taught long ago. Suddenly, in front of him stood a towering cathedral with a warm glow emanating from its many windows.

Draco paused a moment to take a breath and compose himself, then strode up to the door and knocked confidently. It was opened a few moments later, by Jace Wayland – who he had met that morning in Potter’s office and rather liked – and a young boy peeking out shyly from behind an intricate carving of an angel.

“Jonathan,” he said, by way of greeting. The other man smiled amiably.

“Jace is fine. What brings you here, Mr Malfoy? We weren’t expecting you for another day at least.” He stepped back and gestured for Draco to enter.

Draco entered into the foyer and peered around discreetly. The entryway was large and wooden, with intricate carvings on the walls that looked possibly like family coats of arms.

“Draco is likewise fine,” he responded as Jace closed the door behind him. “I’ve found…” He trailed off as his eyes strayed to the boy, still tucked behind the statue. “I’ve found what we’ve been looking for.”

“I see,” said Jace, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll show you to the conference room and grab my wife. Maybe once you’re there, you could floo for the others?” The younger man looked almost a little bit uncertain. Normally, this would have made Draco scoff, but if anything he found himself relaxing a little bit in the presence of such uncertainty. “I’ve just, only really used it once or twice,” Jace continued, “And I really hate the feeling of my head spinning away from me.” He shuddered a little.

Draco chuckled in spite of himself. “The first time I remember traveling by floo I was about three. Went through completely – not just my head – and I sicked up all over my mother’s favourite carpet.”

Jace grinned sardonically back. “Your mother kept her favourite carpet outside of a fireplace you used to floo?”

Drace shrugged back as if to say _Who knows what she was thinking_. The young boy had stepped out as they spoke, and was now eyeing Draco with the reverence only a pre-teen could give to someone who had just told a story of them sicking up all over their house. The boy stepped forward to tug on Jace’s sleeve affectionately.

“I could use the floo, if you don’t want to,” he said, almost slyly. Jace just rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, Draco. This is my son, Steve. And,” he turned to his son, “under no uncertain circumstances are you to be anywhere near the conference room this afternoon, understood?”

“But dad,” the boy started to whinge. Draco suppressed a shudder. He hated winging. Probably because Scorpius did it so often – and Astoria almost always gave in when he did. “Uncle Alec and Uncle Magnus will be here, and I didn’t even get to _see_ them last time but Teresa did and that isn’t fair.”

Jace looked towards Draco and grimaced slightly before looking back at his son. “I promise your uncles will come visit you afterwards, okay? I know it’s hard now that they’re living at Hogwarts. How ‘bout we see if they can bring Max and Rafe over when they come through today, okay?”

The boy – Steve – seemed to brighten significantly at the prospect. “I’ll go find Teresa, then. Can you send them to the library when they get here, Dad?”

“I didn’t promise they’d be able to come,” Jace responded in a warning tone.

“I know!” Steve called backwards as he raced off.

Draco gave Jace a small smile. “They have never-ending energy at this age.”

“His sister is much quiter,” Jace responded as he led Draco through the halls. “Now tell me about this faerie you captured. How did you even do it that quickly?”

“I have connections,” Draco shrugged as they arrived at the conference room. He wasn’t particularly willing to say more and Jace seemed to understand that he didn’t want to be pushed.

Half an hour, and quite a few floo calls later, the conference room was packed. Draco was more than a little bit anxious, but he did his best to take it in stride.

He had somehow ended up seated next to Potter, who was discussing in low tones with Weasley how they planned on questioning the faerie. To his left was a man in the most blindly bright pink robes and – god forbid – sparkling eyeliner. Draco possesed an aggressive hatred for anything that sparkled. Next to him was his husband, Alec Lightwood, and their eldest son Raphael, who had insisted on being allowed to stay although he was only fifteen. Next to Raphael sat Jace, and beside him his wife, who had been introduced to Draco very briefly as Clary. Closing the circle were James Potter and Teddy Lupin, who Draco had only met previously in passing.

“Alright,” said Potter finally, clearing his voice and bringing everyone to attention. “We’ve already spoken amongst the Aurors about using veritaserum on the faerie that has been captured for us.” He gave a brief nod in Draco’s direction. “To fill in our Shadownhunter counterparts – veritaserum is a potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth. We’re aware that fae, by nature, cannot lie,” he continued, as Draco noticed that Clary had opened her mouth as if to argue.

“But not lying is not the same as telling the truth,” Draco filled in. It wasn’t like him, particularly, to speak up in a group, but in a way it was refreshing to be away from the wizarding world. Here, he could be whoever he wanted and act how he pleased.

He caught Potter’s eye, and the other man tilted his head, indicating Draco should continue. “It takes a practiced expert to be able to outwit Veritaserum. It compells the drinker to speak, and only a sharp mind with much practice can learn how to omit information when under its influences. While faeries, I am told, may have practice at speaking half-truths and misleading information, they cannot do this under veritaserum; not without much practice. So it seems most effective.”

The Shadowhunters all nodded at this, and to Draco’s horror, Magnus winked at him.

“Where do you have the faerie now?” Jace asked, directing the question towards Draco.

“He’s, ah…He’s at my house?” Draco’s response turned into a question. Somehow, he was hesitant to tell a group of near strangers from outside his own world that he had a manor, complete with some of the most secure dungeons in magical Britian – Hogwarts and Azkaban excepted.

“Your…house?” Alec responded, speaking for nearly the first time that day. “You’re keeping a strong magical being hell-bent on destruction at _your house_?”

Draco glanced almost unwillingly towards Potter for help. The other man just raised an eyebrow at him, as if to say, _your funeral, mate_. Except that Potter would never call him mate. Git. It was Weasley who took pity on him and spoke up.

“By his house, he means Malfoy Manor,” the readheaded man drawled, “Which has some of the most secure dungeons in all of Britain.”

“Are you confident in that?” Alec put in. “It’s not as though you lot make a habit of collecting Downworlders in your dungeons. Right?” He added, almost unsure of himself – as if wondering if Draco maybe _did_ collect faeries and werewolves. Draco inwardly smirked – and Weasley seemed to read his thoughts.

When Scorpius became friends with Rose, Ron had gone one step further than Potter ever had. Instead of pretending they had no history for their children’s sake, Weasley had sat him down and they had talked – of everything, really. Their pasts, fatherhood, the time Weasley had ended up locked in his dungeons…

“It’s secure,” Weasley said in response. “The Auror department has done numerous tests on it.” He looked almost apologetically towards Draco at this. While he may have been cleared of all charges at his trial thanks to Potter, the Ministry still insisted on doing thorough checks of the Manor every year for Dark artifacts and Merlin knows what else. Since their children had started at Hogwarts and Rose and Scorpius had become fast friends (unlike Albus and Scorp, who had taken some years to grow on each other), Weasley himself always showed up personally to inspect.

“Alright then,” Jace spoke up. “Shall we go there and administer this test, then?”

Draco didn’t miss the look that Potter shot Weasley, and he didn’t blame them. If he were Potter – or Weasley, really – he wouldn’t want to spend any extra time in a place they were imprisoned during a war.

“We’ll do it at Hogwarts,” Draco cut in smoothly. “The castle is more secure than my dungeons, and it should not be hard to transfer the faerie there.”

“How did you capture it, anyways? And how will we transfer it?” James Potter spoke up, for the first time all meeting. Draco imagined it must be challenging – being a Junior Auror thrown onto the largest case in the country – even if the Minister considered it an open and close case that wouldn’t involve the Wizarding World.

“It’s a long story,” Draco said, giving a level look to the younger Potter. “I used the Imperius curse,” he added sheepishly, with a glance at Potter and Weasley. “He should still be under it. I can transport him by secure portkey to Hogwarts. Perhaps one or two others could come with me, just in case.”

“Magnus and I will go,” Alec said immediately, standing up. “You come too, Rafe,” he added, glancing down at Raphael – Magnus was vaguely aware that this boy was Alec’s son, but was more than shocked that he would allow such a young boy to accompany them.

“I’ll come, too,” Weasley added, before Draco could foolishly voice his concern. Sometimes he thought being a parent had made him soft. After all, at the age of fifteen he was letting the Dark Lord into Hogwarts.

***

The Headmistress had given them access to what must have been one of Filch’s old detention rooms, deep in the bowels of the Hogwarts dungeons. Draco, Weasley, Alec, Magnus, and Raphael had all portkeyed there along with their faerie prisoner, who was bound under _incarcerous_ and immediately attached to the only chair in the room.

Under the imperius curse, it didn’t take any effort particularly to force the veritaserum down his throat. Draco leaned against the wall, out of the way of the others, as Potter and Alec prepared the questions they were going to ask while they waited the necessary ten minutes for the veritaserum to take effect. It gave him a good opportunity to study the faeire.

The faerie was tall and lithe. His pointed ears were hid just behind a mess of black hair atop his head. His eyes were narrowed, and Draco watched him take in the room around him. Draco wasn’t sure what to think, honestly – he’d never encountered one of the fae before. If he were being particularly honest, he didn’t have much experience with anything that wasn’t all the way human – though he refused to bow to the prejudice of his parents and use terms like _half-breeds_ – he was better than that. Faeries weren’t really half-breeds anyways, they weren’t human at all.

“Never seen one before?” a young voice came from his left, suddenly. He looked over in surprise to see Raphael leaning against the wall beside him. Draco felt Raphael give him an appraising look, as if measuring up.

“No,” Draco responded finally. “We haven’t even had reason to think of them until recently.”

Raphael gave him a nod, as if he understood. “We didn’t have reason to think of your kind until recently,” he finally said with a shrug.

Draco took a moment to appraise the boy. He had dark skink and tousled dark hair – his appearance reminded Draco of Albus Potter in some ways, although his eyes were dark and tense with pronounced bags under them. He looked to drawn and tired for a teenager.

“We’re human, just like you,” Draco decided on responding.

“We’re not human,” Raphael responded, with a quiet sigh. He gave Draco a sardonic smile. “We’re Shadowhunters.” He paused for a moment, as if considering. Draco waited for the boy’s thoughts to catch up with his mouth.

“They killed my family,” Raphael finally said. His head was down, but he was glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye.

Draco had to fight back the pity he automatically felt – Raphel wasn’t looking for pity. Neither was Draco, when he was this boys age, no matter how hard his life had been.

“War does that – no matter the people involved or the world it’s in,” Draco settled on saying. He looked straight ahead, watching as Alec and Potter shook hands and clapped each other on the back. “You should speak with Potter – Harry I mean,” he added, averting his eyes from the men and towards the boy. “He lost his parents to war when he was young. A war that I was on the wrong side of, but I’m sure you knew that.” He raised his eyebrows at Raphael, who nodded in return. Draco felt as if he had just passed some sort of test.

They settled in beside each other as Potter gestured for quiet and his wand lit in what Draco knew to be a recording charm.

“Head Auror Harry Potter, Depeartment of Magical Law Enforcement, here on this day of September the fifth, in the year two-thousand and twenty-two to question under veritaserum a faerie of the Queen’s Courts, along with Alexander Lightwood of the London Institute.”

“State your name, for the record,” Alec barked at the faerie. When the faerie remained silent, Alec sighed. “What is your name?” He rephrased.

“Cleon,” the faerie very nearly snarled the name out. Clearly, the compulsion under the veritaserum was working.

“What do they fae want with the Wizarding World?” Potter asked next. Draco had never seen Potter in full auror mode before, and was impressed, if not a little intimidated. Maybe it wasn’t just his name that had allowed himself and Weasley to fly through the ranks so quickly.

The faerie seemed to struggle just as long as he possibly could, before biting out a response. “Wands,” Cleon growled.

Potter simply raised his eyebrows. “What else?”

“Domination.” Draco’s nose wrinkled in distaste as Cleon spat at Potter’s feet. The faerie seemed to take a moment to calm himself, and then sat back rather more calmly. It was wise, Draco thought, whether the fae knew it or not. An individual was less likely to have their secrets pulled from them by veritaserum if they calmed their mind.

He glanced over at Rafe who was white as a sheet.

“Why?” Alec asked then. “Domination to what end?”

The man was not particularly good at questioning under veritaserum, although Draco could hardly fault him. It took much practice to be able to word questions in order to compel the individual to confess in the way you wanted. Not that Draco had much practice himself, of course.

“The Shadowhunters have blocked us access to our power and freedom,” Cleon began. Draco could tell that no matter what else was asked – this was the message that the faerie had wanted to get across. “They do not respect us. We will make them regret the day they chose to weaken us.”

There was a moment of silence while Alec and Potter regrouped. Draco glanced to his left to regard the boy beside him. Raphael was white as a sheet, no doubt looking exactly how Draco felt. Another war was something he was not prepared for. Especially another war in which the enemy was something they had never encountered.

He looked around the room for Magnus, jerking his head toward Raphael when they made eye contact. The warlock looked grim, but gave him a small smile as he came over and wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulders.

“Do you need to leave?” Magnus asked in a low tone. Draco watched as Raphael shook his head, just slightly. Magnus opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a white lynx bounding into the room. The lynx turned to face Potter before opening its mouth.

“Ollivander’s has been attacked,” the lynx announced in the Minister’s deep voice. “They are invading Diagon. Gather the Shadowhunters and come at once.”

As the Patronus disappeared, everyone moved at once. The room dissolved into chaos – but all Draco could see were Raphael’s terrified eyes staring back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted from fanfiction.net! I'll update once per week until I'm caught up with what's there, and then hopefully once per month from there on out (my priority is my Mauraders fic rn). Reviews make posts come faster!  
> <3 Cas


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